


I'm Glad I Spent It With You

by aconcretemoon



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Fluff, Gen, Implied Romance, M/M, but it's implied, romance/relationship is not confirmed bc i wrote it for school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-29
Updated: 2015-07-29
Packaged: 2018-04-11 20:24:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4450949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aconcretemoon/pseuds/aconcretemoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan has the worst possible day, but a kind stranger makes it a bit less shit. </p>
<p>Based on Oprah Winfrey's statement that “one small thoughtful gesture can make someone else’s day.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Glad I Spent It With You

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually a task from a midterm/mock exam I had a few months ago in English – which is my second language.
> 
> It was written with Dan and Phil in mind (bc I'm trash like that), but I initially had other names. Apart from that, I haven't changed the story since I wrote it. Please bear in mind that this was written in about 4 hours (maybe less), and is unbeta'ed. 
> 
> A part of the task was that the story was set in an English speaking country, and that this was CLEARLY expressed through the text, so sorry if it seems like I've overdone the London/UK "scenery" – I had to, in order to fully answer the task. 
> 
> Title cred: Perfect Day – Lou Reed

If Dan had known what a supremely crap day he was facing when he woke up an hour late for work that Thursday morning, he wouldn’t have bothered getting out of bed at all. He would have called his boss with his expertly faked “stuffed nose and uncooperative throat” voice and claimed to be feeling ill and like he should stay home for the day. It would probably have worked, too, and then he could have spent the day slumbering in bed and watching old reruns of EastEnders, and probably enjoying a nutritious diet of flat Diet Coke and stale crisps.

Unfortunately, though, Dan was not psychic, and did not know all of this. Thus, he found himself jumping around in his flat, with his trousers – which were probably long overdue for a wash, if he was being honest – pulled up over one leg, while he frantically searched for his missing sock. Amidst of his search, he caught his own scent, and it was so bad that, _no, deodorant spray and perfume just wasn’t going to cut it_. One bone-numbingly icy shower later, he was back to square one, with his trousers around his ankles and his one sock still missing. At that point he should have been able to predict that this was going to be one of _those_ days. 

Alas, he didn’t, and therefore he was practically leaping – although not particularly gracefully – out of his flat, half an hour later. He didn’t have time to care about how his wet tips were dripping cold water down his neck, or how his mouth and throat were still suffering from coffee burns from when he had mindlessly chugged the practically scolding hot liquid. If the clock on his phone was correct, the next Westbound Piccadilly Line train would leave in roughly 16 minutes. The station was only a few blocks down the road, so he would probably make it by a fair shot. However, Dan had this principle that _if you’re late, you run,_ so he ran for it, either way.

As predicted, he arrived at the station 7 minutes before the train would leave. Dan smiled for the first time that day as he beeped his Oyster card. But rather than allowing him to pass through, the scanner just angrily bleeped at him. _Of course_. Hurriedly, he tried another scanner, only to get the same response. He swore under his breath and made a beeline towards the top-up machine. And, of course, his card was out of money. He didn’t have enough money to top it up for more than maybe 3 rides, so he bitterly paid for one of the regular tickets, before hurrying towards the Westbound platform. When he _finally_ was in the stairs leading down to the platform area, his train was already there.

He sprinted down the stairs as fast as his legs would allow. The doors were starting to close. He sped up more than he thought was possible. He was so close, he could actually make it!  
Just as he was about to slot through the tiny opening that was left, the doors closed completely, and the train began to drive away. He cursed loudly, and became all too aware of the pitiful and mocking faces on the other side of the door.

It was when he walked into his work building about an hour later, three hours after he was supposed to show up, that Dan began to realise that _maybe_ this day would’ve been better spent in bed.

 

Come lunch break, Dan had made up his mind. This day would _definitely_ have been better spent in bed. Not only had he arrived in the middle of an important meeting, causing him to be yelled excessively at by his boss in front of all of his co-workers, but once he actually got to work, he was yelled at by three angry clients over the phone, and discovered that he had received a figurative pile of e-mails with varying degrees of passive-aggressiveness.

As if that wasn’t enough in itself, his computer had decided to shut down unexpectedly as he was close to finished writing a long, important document that was due to be handed in to his boss in a few days. Normally, he would have explained the matter to his boss, but something told him that might not be the best idea on this particular day.

Needless to say, his spirits weren’t particularly high as he stalked into the break room. He avoided eye contact, knowing that he looked far from presentable, and that the majority of his co-workers still had his arrival fresh in mind.

Because of the Oyster-card incident earlier, he didn’t have much money to spend in the canteen, so he settled for playing on his phone, even if it was nearly out of battery. Rather that than having to socialise with people he barely even knew.

When he got back to his grey, dull cubicle of boredom, even more phone calls from dissatisfied clients awaited. Why Dan always got the unpleasant ones, he didn’t know. _Bad karma, probably_ , he thought to himself. This left him wondering what he could have done to possibly screw up his karma bad enough to get a day like today.

 

He finally left the office at nearly 7 PM. His boss had held him back for the hours he’d been absent earlier. Dan personally found this very embarrassing. He was a 23 year old man with an office job; he shouldn’t have to get detention like some teenager.

Although he couldn’t wait to get home and bury himself under the duvets, like he should have done at 9 AM that morning, he was craving a coffee, and decided to drop by a local coffee house.

The atmosphere inside was warm and just the right amount of stuffy, which greatly contrasted the increasingly cold and crisp atmosphere outside. Dan had just enough pounds for a coffee, which he gratefully accepted from the barista. He scanned the coffee shop for a vacant table. He spotted one, and made his way towards it, when someone rushed past him, and managed to bump harshly into his shoulder. The coffee in his mug was spilt all over him, and although the coffee was scolding hot, that was not why he felt like crying. He just couldn’t catch a break today, could he?

He must have stood staring out in the shop with glazed eyes for longer than he had thought, because he felt someone prick him on the shoulder, probably to ask him to move out of the way. He turned around, ready to say sorry, and was faced with a man who looked at him with a concerned expression.

“Are you okay, there?”

Dan was taken slightly off guard, and just stared at the man in confusion. “Uh, I’m sorry, I’m just… having a bad day?” he ended up answering in an uncertain, questioning tone. He wasn’t sure were his sudden honesty came from.

The man was quiet for a little while, and measured Dan with his eyes. Dan was about to leave, when the man suddenly shrugged off his hoodie.

“Here,” he said, and handed it to Dan, “go to the restroom and change into this.”

Dan stared at the stranger. _What?_

“I’m sorry, what?

“You’re soaked in coffee!-”

Dan nearly snorted. He was aware of that.

“And you don’t have a jacket! Please don’t tell me you’re actually planning on going out at this time of day in a wet shirt?”

Dan sighed. The man had a point. Reluctantly, he grabbed the hoodie, with a quiet “thank you” to the kind stranger, before heading to the restroom. The hoodie was bright yellow, which differed greatly from Dan’s usual all-black attire, and it smelled like a strange combination of sweet raspberries, deodorant spray and popcorn, but Dan was certainly not complaining. Anything was an improvement from his now cold, wet shirt that smelled strongly of bitter coffee.

 

When he got back from the restroom, he was met with the strange man, and was promptly handed a full cup of hot coffee.

“Eh,” Dan said sheepishly, “I don’t have money to pay for this.”

The stranger just smiled. “Don’t worry about it. My treat.”

Once again, Dan was shocked by the man’s kindness, but gratefully thanked him. 

“I’m Phil, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Dan.”

“Say, why don’t you sit down with me and tell me about your bad day?”

 

When Dan was on his way home later that evening, still in the warm hoodie, with Phil’s number in his pocket, and a promise to hang out again, he realised that maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing that he didn’t spend the day in bed, either way.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: At one point I stated that if Dan was late for something, he instinctively runs for it to make sure he's not late. Coincidentally, about a week or so after I wrote this, Dan uploaded "Internet Support Group 5", where he actually says he does the complete opposite. Oh well.


End file.
